


Rock-Paper-Scissors

by tjstar



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Awkward Boners, Awkward Sexual Situations, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Regional At Best Era, Sexual Tension, Van Days, Wet Dream, fetus pilots™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 15:23:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12323706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar
Summary: Mark is way too curious.“How do you decide who tops?”Tyler hopes he isn’t going to install the bugs all over the van to find out.“Rock-paper-scissors,” Josh simply says.





	Rock-Paper-Scissors

Tyler can’t stop pondering of how important The Thing actually is. Certain Thoughts flood his brain, his body, which doesn’t make his existence less embarrassing. He’s never done anything to be extremely proud of at this point, but at least, he hasn’t done anything that would have made him want to hide his head in the sand.

The Thing is, in fact, his sexual activity.

An endless touring with a band has its own pros and cons; being _this_ close to Josh all the time can definitely be considered as a gift. But when Tyler’s raging hormones take over, he wakes up with his soiled boxers clinging to his thighs, he cusses himself both mentally and out loud while locking himself in bathroom stalls afterwards.

He doesn’t know if Josh is this troubled _as well_.

And it makes the dreams about The Thing more vivid.

 

***

Tyler is clueless why it keeps taunting him; they’re in the back of the van, and Tyler needs to change his underwear as fast as possible. The sun is scorching Tyler’s eyes so he presses his face into his ethnic-style hoodie he uses instead of a pillow.

“Hey,” a light pat on his shoulder. “Good morning.”

This morning is so very far from _good_. The buckle of Tyler’s belt has made a blue-red imprint on his abdomen, he feels it, he’s hot and sticky, he’s degraded again, and it’s all about Josh and his drumming passion. Tyler’s thoughts turn to a waterfall that’s about to sprout out of his mouth in the form of words.

“Good morning?”

Tyler reluctantly turns his head and sees Josh’s knees right in front of his nose; he’s wearing shorts and his kneecaps are so lovely Tyler wouldn’t mind getting punched in his crotch right now, just to forget about his fantasies. It was a short scene about a naked Josh, it always is.

“Morning,” Tyler croaks out.

Josh shifts along with the mattress.

“Nightmares?”

Nightmares cause Tyler to scream and kick in his sleep.

“No.”

Josh lifts up the corner of the blanket.

“What’s then?”

“Nothing,” Tyler responds hastily.

He still can’t bring himself up to look at Josh’s face.

“Really?” Josh moves, Josh tousles Tyler’s hair. “We are about to go and eat something, do you wanna join? Or I can go get your favorite—”

Tyler swallows down his whine.

“Josh. _Go_ ,” he rasps.

Finally, Josh understands Tyler’s well-masked pleas.

“Oh crap,” he crawls away in a rush. “Sure, dude, I— I know, um, would fifteen minutes be enough?”

Tyler groans into his hoodie.

“Yes, okay,” Josh creeps to the door. “Take your time.”

Josh leaves, not even dressing up properly.

Tyler tugs at his too tight belt; his morning problem has returned, but well, he suspects he’s going to be done in less than fifteen minutes.

 

***

Tyler is thinking up The Talk.

He’s onstage, morning awkwardness long forgotten; Josh is behind him, the most furious drummer Tyler has ever seen. Tyler feels the beat, the vibration in his bones and the outbursts of energy pulsing in his veins.

“Try to love me and I’ll try to save you!”

Tyler jumps into the crowd, he can swear no one expects this; there are hands and fingers everywhere, claws ripping his clothes and yanking at his hair.

Far too much to enjoy it.

He should’ve taken his shoes off before crowdsurfing — a dude grips at his Vans, and Josh hits his drums harder while Tyler squirms atop of the people. A girl pinches him, her unnaturally sharp nails leave a crescent-shaped bruise on his arm.

Tyler is gulping for air by the time Michael catches him by his foot, tugging him backwards and grasping at his belt; Tyler is about to lose his microphone as the world spins, and suddenly he’s not in the crowd anymore. He’s in Michael’s arms, bridal-style, as Michael carries him back to the stage, back to shimmering flashes and a steady drumbeat.

Back to Josh’s smile.

Tyler is living.

After the show, Mark takes a picture of him and Josh in the dressing room; both of them are sweaty, hair disheveled and Tyler is aware that his pants aren’t that baggy anymore. Josh’s arm is thrown over Tyler’s shoulders as they sit on the table next to empty plates and bottles full of water. They’re just posing, they grin like stupid plastic dolls; Tyler’s cheeks ache due to all the fakeness.

Mark says it’s one of his best shots.

“Hurry up,” he winks at them before snatching his backpack and leaving the room.

Things get more awkward. Just because they need to change their clothes after the show. Shuddering, Tyler pulls up his pants, his hard-on bulges through the fabric.

Josh is covered in a sheen of sweat he wipes with his own t-shirt, shedding it off and revealing his torso to the dim lights. He’s working out when they have gaps in their schedule; it brings the result even though his a bit soft tummy hasn’t been replaced with solid abs yet.

“You’re looking at me,” Josh states.

Josh’s fingers skim over his nipples.

Tyler chokes.

“Do you like me?”

“Sure, I do,” Josh replies. As if it means nothing.

Tyler tries his best to not stare.

“For real?”

Josh folds his shirt and stuffs it into his bag.

“For real.”

They’ve made too many boyfriend-jokes already.

Tyler bites his nails not to blurt out he’s been thinking of Josh while masturbating today morning. And yesterday, too. They’re an _old married couple_ , it’s clear for everyone except them, and The Talk can’t wait anymore.

“I have an idea,” Tyler mumbles, his thumb is still in his mouth. “I like you too.”

And Josh is standing in front of him, shirtless, sweaty — it’s kind of gross. Tyler is sure Josh doesn’t think so.

“Do you want me to?..” Josh points at Tyler’s crotch, Tyler’s hand mirrors his gesture.

“No,” Tyler stops, he isn’t seeking for being touched _this way_. He’s not that pathetic. “I just want… One kiss maybe?” he blinks to make the wooziness go away.

Tyler licks his lips as Josh keeps observing him.

“I’m a terrible kisser,” Josh says.

“Me too!” Tyler cries out, then chortling nervously. “Gosh, me too. But we’ll never make it there, so we…” he’s getting thoughts now, cogwheels in his brain reel. “Let’s play,” Tyler smiles.

Josh doesn’t seem to be relieved by this.

“Play?”

“Yes,” Tyler’s fist is clenched. “Rock-paper-scissors.”

Josh squints at him.

“Are you kidding me?”

Tyler doesn’t want Josh to think he’s _that_ terrible.

“No, I mean, we still need to _start something_ , so if you win you kiss me, and if I win, I kiss you,” he’s rambling, his fist shakes as he holds it at his chest’s level.

And Josh accepts the rules.

Tyler has never felt stupider.

“Well…” he clicks his tongue. “Let’s do it,” he glances at their fists. Josh nods in agreement. “Rock-paper-scissors!”

A millisecond to form a shape.

Tyler’s scissors cut Josh’s paper, and Josh laughs, gurgling sounds come out of his throat. Tyler winces and waits for Josh to beat his ill-concealed hysteria.

“Well,” Josh hums, taking a step. “You won, you’re the _boss_ now. Kiss me.”

It’s too late to break the rule — Tyler’s mind is blank as he makes an eye contact with Josh and a tactile contact with his lips —

Tyler doesn’t know whether it’s a chemical reaction or not, but his nerve endings are flaring, his tongue slips into Josh’s mouth. Tyler licks Josh’s teeth, Josh’s hand traces down his waist; Josh’s palm is damp and rough, and Tyler caves under the touch, pulling away as a whole spectrum of new sensations blooms up. Josh is so into it, too; he throws his head back, the soft spot underneath his jaw is so appealing — Tyler sucks his skin, Tyler bites, then appraising the red mark on Josh’s Adam’s apple.

“Wow,” Josh’s pupils dilate as his fingertips inspect a small bruise.

Tyler doesn’t let him share his impressions, they need to leave this room in five minutes, but it’s enough for them to go for one more round. Hot lips and vulgar touches out of sheer curiosity — Josh finds Tyler’s erogenous zone accidentally, and Tyler is about to die. His heartbeat is a metronome while Josh’s hand is placed on his ribcage, on the silly print of Tyler’s t-shirt.

Tyler’s precome moistens his boxers.

“What’s wrong?” Josh whispers.

Josh’s cock rubs against Tyler’s thigh.

Josh pats Tyler’s chest in the friendliest way.

Tyler panics as the wet spot is about to appear on the front of his pants, he’s not ready for it — it’s just the beginning, but Josh’s hands roam over his torso, and Tyler is one second away from a breakdown.

“Sorry,” Tyler pecks Josh’s lips once again, Josh holds him by the back of his neck to steal one more kiss. “Josh, I…” his mouth is dry as the embarrassment hits him like a brick. “…need to use a bathroom,” Tyler finishes, batting Josh’s hands, breaking the hug.

He can feel Josh’s confusion as he whips around and storms out of the dressing room, barely making it to the restroom down the hallway. He locks the door, he leans his back against the cold wall and unzips his pants, shoving his hand down his soaked underwear.

“Josh,” Tyler exhales, his lips hurt. “Josh, Josh, Josh,” he repeats in rhythm with the jerks of his hand. “Josh,” Tyler drawls, seeing the multi-colored patterns swimming in front of his closed eyelids. His thighs tremble, his hips thrust forward as he comes hard, less than in a minute, and Tyler is afraid that it might affect his future relationship with Josh.

He wonders if Josh knows that he’s still a virgin.

Then he wonders if Josh is a virgin.

With leftover thoughts leaking out of his brain, Tyler slouches down the wall, on the floor that’s not so clean, but Tyler’s clothes aren’t so neat either. He pulls his hand out of his boxers, white streaks glue his fingers together. Tyler heaves out a sigh and scrambles up to make it to the sink to wash his hands and the stains on his pants maybe.

“Dang this game,” Tyler says as the cold water fills the porcelain.

_Dang Josh._

 

***

Their friendship eventually levels up, because Tyler still can’t reach a compromise with his natural needs.

They’re not hanging out in a van all the time — they have a day off so they can sleep in a hotel. Sharing the room with Josh is funny, but Tyler gets aroused easily; he tells to himself he shouldn’t feel like a dumb teenager when Josh watches the videos about misheard Disney-songs’ lyrics on YouTube. Josh is too pure. Josh giggles, Tyler wants to hide under his blanket, but instead, he sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Josh,” Tyler yawns. “I need to charge my phone.”

Tyler has a socket next to his bed, but the one next to _Josh’s_ bed looks much better. Josh doesn’t attack him with questions, just moving a little so Tyler can snuggle under the duvet; these bedsheets are too white, too pristine. Unlike Tyler’s thoughts. Tyler plugs the charger into the socket, lying on his stomach and typing a message to his brother.

 **Tyler:** _stayin’ in a hotel. everything is fine_

He doesn’t clarify he’s lying in a bed with Josh.

Tyler’s gradually getting _that_ mood, rubbing against the bedsheets and propping his elbows against the mattress. It’s an elusive sparkle, a lump in his chest and lust in his abdomen — Tyler keeps checking Josh’s reaction as he slides closer to him, side against side. There’s a light shade of yellow under Josh’s jaw, his torso is pale and mottled with freckles. Tyler wants to touch them. And, when Josh moves his legs and the blanket falls over his groin, Tyler wants to touch Josh.

Josh needs it, he can tell.

“Rock-paper-scissors?” Tyler offers innocently.

Josh drops his phone on his stomach.

“What?”

Tyler flicks a blackened screen.

“The winner gets a handjob.”

Josh nudges his ribs.

“Deal,” he lays his phone onto the nightstand then reaching for Tyler’s device to turn it off.

“Deal,” Tyler nods.

It’s easy to play with Josh, it’s easy to beat his scissors with a rock, it’s easy to see a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes. But Tyler is not a jerk, he just relishes his victory, still half covered with the blanket while Josh’s hand gives a few firm tugs to his erect cock, knowing where to squeeze to make Tyler forget his own name.

“Gonna know how to play with me,” Josh warns.

The bedsheets underneath Tyler are damp and crinkled; his legs are splayed out as Josh wriggles in between his thighs, caressing his skin as the goosebumps pop up.

“Josh,” Tyler says habitually, his head is on fire, the head of his cock is leaking lazily.

His precome leaves smudges on Josh’s palm and on his wrist as he changes the tempo, making Tyler snort and grab his forearms. Tyler has never been so exposed before, Josh’s hand pumps him, up and down; Tyler is about to come already, but Josh stops, curling a corner of his mouth into a smile.

“Wait,” he says.

He leans in, the grasp is barely a tickle, and Tyler stares at Josh in awe; he stares into Josh’s eyes, he wants to feel his teeth clamping his tongue again and again. He wants Josh, but Josh has other plans, working his hand too slowly while Tyler craves to get off. Tyler knows Josh watches him, eyes half-lidded as the dark spot spreads on his boxers and Josh fumbles with an elastic waistband, his left hand sneaks inside.

Tyler likes it.

“No one said I couldn’t touch myself,” Josh says, Josh jerks him harder at the same as he teases himself.

That’s when the heat pools in the pit of Tyler’s stomach, spilling out of him and all over Josh’s palm, leaving a few whitish trails on his own underwear. Josh looks down at his fingers before replacing his left hand in his boxers with his right one — it’s like a show; Tyler’s briefs are sticky, he’s overheating as if his blood might start clotting right now.

“Oh.”

Josh comes, rolling his eyes and letting his head loll groggily, freezing for a moment before collapsing on top of Tyler, rubbing their cocks again, their come is a layer in between their bodies.

“I really like this game,” Josh breathes out, scratching Tyler’s cheek with his stubble as he speaks.

This game is a blessing.

Tyler is a mess.

“I like it too,” Tyler gasps out.

Josh huffs into his neck and pats his chest again — Josh knows how to turn Tyler on.

Josh knows how to get Tyler off.

 

***

“It was your idea,” Josh says, still holding his _paper_ against Tyler’s _rock_.

It’s almost like a handshake, but it also means that the winner tops.

They’re in the back of the van again, and Tyler was sure Josh was going to lose; Josh doesn’t let go of his fist, clutching it while Tyler’s heart thumps in his chest, hopping like a crazy rabbit.

“We can play once more if you want,” Josh offers, wiping his hand on his jeans.

Tyler thinks it’s unfair.

“The rule says we can only play once at a time.”

“It’s _your_ rule, dude,” Josh chuckles.

Tyler bends his knees and folds his hands over his stomach.

“Undress.”

“I bought condoms so we won’t stain anything,” Josh taps his fingers on his pocket.

And he begins to strip, eager to get rid of his clothes, and Tyler waits, hard and nervous; he only tugs his hoodie over his head and unbuckles his jeans when Josh kisses him, Josh presses Tyler’s hips down the thin mattress so it’s impossible for Tyler to take his jeans off. Josh is a genius, Josh speaks body language and sends Tyler to the edge in seconds, as embarrassing as it sounds. Josh’s hands are placed on Tyler’s chest, massaging his rigid muscles, arousal spirals up in his abdomen. A light touch makes him huff out a loud breath — he might finish before they even start.

“Feels good?”

Josh’s smile is good and evil at the same time; through the fabric of his jeans, Tyler can feel how _excited_ he is.

“Feels good,” Tyler repeats. It’s easier than coming up with a brand new compliment.

Josh lifts his hips up so Tyler can do the same and drag his jeans all the way down his legs; Josh tosses them and Tyler’s boxers at the pile of their bags and backpacks. The windows are tinted, the doors are locked, and they’ve parked the van beside a cornfield while the rest of their crew took a ride to go and play bowling.

They have a few hours.

“I think they want us to do The Thing,” Tyler says shyly.

And they’re about to, if the aliens aren’t going to abduct them straight away.

“The Thing,” Josh nods, pulling his underwear down. “You’re so innocent.”

Tyler still can’t comprehend how they got there; his thoughts are like a cork in his head when Josh’s cold hand cups his groin, the contrast is so dramatic Tyler sucks a breath.

“Lube,” Josh smirks. “I didn’t only buy condoms.”

“You’re smart,” Tyler quivers when Josh’s hand glides over the base of his cock.

“I’m a winner,” Josh says, swirling his thumb over the head.

This gesture is familiar, and Tyler’s response is familiar too; he wants to thrust into Josh’s hand until he comes, reflectively, as if he’s hanging out by himself in a shower. Josh’s naked body is the only thing Tyler can think about, about the freckles on his shoulders and on his back; Tyler wants to connect these freckles with scratches like constellations, he wants to moan and act seductively.

Tyler’s imagination draws pictures for him.

In reality, he blushes and covers his face with his palms while Josh smears the lube all over his fingers; it’s cold again as he pushes one of them in — Josh was wrong when he said they won’t ruin the mattress.

The lube drips out as Josh makes Tyler lift his hips up again.

“Um,” Tyler says, opening his eyes and seeing Josh’s concerned face above his own.

“What?” Josh asks, almost frightened.

“Nothing,” Tyler shrugs as if it’s just a regular conversation and Josh hasn’t just added the second finger to relieve some of the tightness.

Josh’s face is still concerned, but his fingers aren’t that cold anymore.

“Try to relax,” Josh pushes Tyler’s knees apart to position himself between his legs.

“Good advice,” Tyler quips. He almost snaps, naked and anxious and insecure with Josh’s fingers up his ass, but Josh’s right hand caresses his strained up cock again. The lube makes his pubic hair stick together.

Josh doesn’t do any wonders, it’s just a mechanic motion every guy knows, but it’s exactly what Tyler needs — his eyelids droop, he can handle the third finger, Josh’s calluses are coarse against his sensitive skin. These touches are so odd; Tyler shivers when the pads of Josh’s fingers brush over his prostate, but nothing can dull the weirdness. It’s gonna be better next time.

He feels warmer, his anxiety backs off.

“We can stop,” Josh murmurs, slowing down.

“What?!” Tyler exclaims and tries to sit up to check if Josh is kidding. “We’re about to start _making love_ , no, please, don’t stop,” his words are mostly a whine, but Josh gets back to his regular pace.

“It’s so cute how you’re avoiding the word _sex_ ,” he says, leaning forward and rubbing his crotch against Tyler’s, taking his slippery fingers out.

“It’s not just _sex_ ,” Tyler replies. “I have feelings.”

And Josh bends to kiss him, the heat of his body seeps through Tyler’s frozen bones; Josh takes a moment to roll a condom up his cock then turning back to Tyler with the glimmer of joy in his eyes.

“Well, then I have feelings too,” Josh smiles, crouching down between Tyler’s thighs.

Josh touches himself, at the perfect angle for Tyler to _see_ , clenching his teeth and bucking his hips to thrust further into his fist.

And Tyler wants to be that fist.

“Josh,” Tyler says, guiltily, because Josh looks hot despite all the awkwardness.

It’s not that Tyler doesn’t trust him, but he doesn’t want Josh to get off before The Thing actually happens.

“Sure,” Josh creeps closer, the tip of his condom-coated cock pokes at Tyler’s inner thigh.

Tyler swallows dryly.

Josh uses more lube to push in, to stretch Tyler again and he pants, parting his lips as Josh begins to move, the puzzle is gathered; Josh’s cheeks are red, sweat glisters on his chest as he hovers over Tyler with his back hunched. It barely looks comfortable.

Tyler doesn’t feel that comfortable either.

Nothing bad, though.

“Should I say something?” Tyler asks hesitantly. Josh shakes his head. “More?”

Tyler is hard, but he’s certain he won’t come untouched tonight, preoccupied with Josh’s cock in his ass; Josh carefully rocks his hips and Tyler feels a twitch inside of him.

“Wow,” Josh comments.

Tyler’s muscles contract as he grips at Josh’s shoulders; Josh’s skin turns white underneath Tyler’s fingertips then reddening as the blood flows back.

And Josh’s hips jerk again.

And, indeed, it’s a _wow_.

Well, for Josh mostly.

Josh lets out a strangled growl, moving faster while Tyler bites his lips; Josh tries to get him off, harshly, all wet and slick, and —

“I’m—” Josh exhales as he comes first, his hips jerk a few more times before he stills, with his nose pressed to Tyler’s ear. Josh huffs before pulling out and rolling away from Tyler, resting his forearm over his eyes.

Tyler is a little envious.

“Touch me.”

Tyler is ashamed of the way his voice sounds. But he’s sure Josh likes it, Josh gives him a handjob, he’s more experienced than Tyler, and they’re not virgins anymore. Tyler comes on the count of _six_ , yes, he counts his thrusts to keep them in check.

Tyler’s still buzzed and sore.

“We need to practice more,” Josh says, wiping Tyler’s come on his own thigh.

“Definitely,” Tyler agrees.

Josh beams before scrambling to sit up and bunch up their crumpled clothes.

“Good. Get dressed,” without warning, he throws Tyler’s jeans back at him.

Tyler can’t muster enough energy to catch them so his jeans land onto his face.

He’s glad the aliens didn’t bother them.

 

***

Mark says he ships them hard.

They’re driving, the van lurches and jumps up, and Tyler squirms on his seat, then rolling over onto his side and resting his head onto Josh’s lap.

“I think I know who’s bottomed,” Mark smirks, turning from the passenger seat while Michael speeds up. Tyler can see him smile in the rear-view mirror.

“Shut up,” Tyler tosses a balled up tissue at him.

“Hey!” Mark fakes the anger as it hits him in the forehead. “I don’t even want to know what you’ve done to this poor tissue.”

“Don’t ask then,” Josh fends off.

Josh is a good friend. Tyler changes his position again, lying on his stomach while Josh rubs his back, up and down his shoulder blades.

Mark is way too curious.

“How do you decide who tops?”

Tyler hopes he isn’t going to install the bugs all over the van to find out.

“Rock-paper-scissors,” Josh simply says.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Mark rolls his eyes and busies himself with watching concert pictures on his camera.

Tyler can’t find anything else to throw at him.

**Author's Note:**

> an idea by PantaloonWarrior  
> i just tried to turn it to something


End file.
